Celebrity Skin
by Harryba
Summary: Blaine has reached the prime of life, and, as a teenage heartthrob, we explore his new lifestyle, his personality changes and the person who he ends up falling in love with as a result. Read how the sweet and innocent glee-clubber becomes a bad-boy diva. This fanfic will include some of his old friends, lovers and even some new characters too. I hope you enjoy it!
1. Enjoying the perks

**Please to enjoy my story. The warnings for this and future chapters are sexually explicit content, swearing and some minor violence.**

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Blaine would have been lying if he said that he didn't enjoy the perks that his career merited him with. For example, he was currently slouched into the leather, first class seat of a semi-private plane (for he shared it with the rest of the bubble his life equipped itself with). As well as this, he had a lovely looking, young personal waiter, who seemed more than happy enough to fill all of Blaine's strange requests.

Firstly, perhaps, I should explain what this job was. Blaine Anderson was in the music business.

It mostly began when, just before he graduated from high school, a music producer stepped in and showed interest in his work. It wasn't quite the job he expected to get, but, it was something he would never complain about.

He wasn't quite as big as Justin Bieber, but, he was certainly an up-and-comer in the pop music industry, and a television host had referred to him is a 'teen sensation', which made him laugh. He had become somewhat of a teenage heartthrob on top of this, and he had gained a fair amount of attention from girls his age and younger (as well as a few boys who, in all fairness, would be silly to no fancy him too), and, even though he was publically gay, he seldom missed the attention he was so grateful to have been gifted with.

He had just finished promotion of his second studio album, which as a cover compilation of his favourite songs that he and the members of his old glee club performed, and was flying from the UK over to California, a place that he never even dreamed of traveling to, let alone have achieved it by the age of nineteen.

Once he arrived, he would be doing an array of things to publicise him and his career. It was to be a month-long visit, in which he would do an interview with a chat show host, an array of CD signings in local and retail shops, a Q-and-A session with his adoring fans and a photo-shoot for a gay-focused magazine (think 'attitude' or 'Out' magazine, I suppose).

After a few of the many hours he would be traveling for, he let out a subtle cough, and his waiter, smiling, walked over and leaned in, waiting for Blaine's request.

"I…excuse me, how long until we get there?" Blaine asked the boy nicely, not quite used to the 'diva' way of asking.

"Oh, urm, only about an hour left, Mister Anderson…" the boy replied, seemingly quite nervous.

Blaine was normally quite slow at noticing things like this, but he picked up on the small autograph book that had not been fully tucked into his pocket. He smiled daintily.

"Do you, urm, want an autograph?" Blaine smiled.

"Oh, urm, please, that would be great!" The boy seemed to perk up as he spoke. He then became a little flustered as Blaine took the autograph book, and started writing.

"It's Aaron, my name," the boy interjected, just at the point where Blaine was signing his thanks for the appreciative fan. He passed it back shortly afterwards.

"You're sort of a gay icon…" Aaron suggested nicely. Blaine simply smiled at this

Aaron turned away, and, in a flustered mess, dropped a handful of napkins on the floor. He bent down to reach them, flexing his delicate bum cheeks right in front of Blaine's face, almost as if they knew he was gay, and wanted to taunt him.

"How much longer did you say, Aaron?" Blaine asked, biting the bottom of lip.

"About an hour…Mister Anderson."

* * *

Blaine didn't quite anticipate that, a few moments later, he and the cute waiter would be locked in a tongue battle inside of the bathroom. Blaine was dominant, almost taking control of the situation as the kiss developed further, and by the time Blaine's tongue had passed Aaron's and had made it into new territory, the boys were fumbling around one-another's clothes.

Aaron was working away at Blaine's cardigan buttons, pulling the top two apart enough so that he could bypass the fabric. He then, moving the clothing aside, disengaged the kiss, and began pecking short and sweet kisses upon the teenagers chest. Blaine let out a subtly moan, clearly as a pleasured response.

Anderson, in a moment of unthinkable hotness, leaned forwards some more, lunging at Aaron's butt-cheeks with both hands. He gripped them, rolling his fingers around the cheeks, and then pulled the other boy closer to him, so that their pelvises were brushing together.

And, they would have remained together for longer if not for Aaron's eagerness. The waiter pulled away, and sent his clawed hands in to attack Blaine's belt in a 'hot-mess' kind of way. Blaine sent another satisfactory moan out as the belt came undone, and Aaron worked his way at the teen's jean buttons, brushing his knuckles against his crotch.

Just as he had sat himself on the 'shelf' that the sink was on, and Aaron had begun to kiss his somewhat undefined abs, there was a domineering knock on the door, followed by the recognizably gruff tone of his manager.

"I hate to interrupt you, Anderson, but we're nearly there…" he said.

Blaine's normal personality would tell him to stop while he was still allowed a chance to redeem his sexual actions, but, the somewhat proud celebrity that he was becoming didn't seem to care. He let out a seductive "Okay", and once he had heard that his agent had gone, went about pulling the red and white uniform trousers that Aaron was wearing…

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As the rest of the management crew made their way off of the plane, Blaine staggered out of the toilet, his cardigan somewhat still unbuttoned, and a bit of his shirt tucked into his jeans, while the rest was loosely flapping around the edges. He turned to Aaron, and sent a seductive air-kiss his way, before departing, heading for the hotel.

While sex in a toilet with a cute waiter was a perk he did enjoy, riding in a black car with blacker windows made him skeptical He wasn't sure that he liked being concealed in such a way, what with all the public announcements that he made (such as his public coming out), something felt shady about it. Nonetheless, his agent assured him it was for the best, and he didn't seem to object overly.

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**I hope you liked the start to my new story. If anybody was wandering, I kind of 'finished' my last story up to the point that I wanted to. I may do more to it if I can get any more ideas.**

**Anyway, enough about that story. Please do leave reviews if you liked it. I'm not addicted to them, but, they help me to gauge whether or not to keep writing and what parts you like/dislike.**


	2. Disapprovement

**More! I have more. This is becoming more and more fun to write, so, expect some good action in the future. Please do leave reviews!**

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It had become apparent to Blaine's agent that letting Blaine visit and divulge in the Sacramento night-life was perhaps not the best thing to have done the night before his first T.V interview.

He marched in the same way he normally marched, he stocky and fat legs bounding one in front of the other as the chubby man waltzed his way to Blaine's hotel room. He knocked on the door briefly, but let himself in when it became clear that Blaine wasn't going to open it.

As he forced his dumpy body inside the room, he could see Blaine, naked and asleep in the bed, the sheets barely covering both the teenager and the other, equally naked boy that lay beside him. He was about twenty, or maybe even younger, and was sprawled across the bed in a lazy and drunken fashion.

Blaine's manager adopted the same march as before, stomping over to the bed where he took one of the loose pillows. He then proceeded to use it as a weapon, slapping the two young men with the soft and fluffy sleeping device, until they both woke from their drunken slumber.

Blaine let out a dissatisfied groan, caused by both being woken up and the pounding hang-over that he had. The other boy woke up too, equally as disdainful; scratching his hair as he did.

The dumpy agent let out a screeching yell (still somehow maintaining equal gruffness as before) as he yelled 'Get out!' to the person who it became obvious that Blaine had slept with.

As the other man grabbed his underwear and pulled them on subtly, and had slung his tee-shirt over his neck loosely, he grabbed his other clothes and rushed out of the room. Blaine let out a whimper as he peered at the leaving man.

"Who the fuck was he, Blaine?" said the agent, clearly bemused.

"It…urm, I'm not sure…" Blaine said in reply, groaning. He had begun to stretch and yawn, blatantly showing a lack of respect to the agent. "He had a nice ass though!"

"Shut…just, stop doing that. You'll get a bad name for yourself!"

"It was only one freakin' night. I won't get drunk again, mommy!" he mocked, clearly to the further bemusement of his agent.

"Get your boney ass outta that bed and down those stairs you little shit!" the agent had no longer the ability to conceal his anger, and instead allowed his spite to overpower Blaine's cheekiness.

Blaine did just that. Like a child who had pushed his parent's limits, he solemnly changed in to the pre-prepared casual shirt and tie that had been left aside, constantly stopping to drink water to quench the thirst that had been cast by his hangover.

He wasn't even sure what the fuss was about. This was the first time that he had been drunk since he had grown to fame, and the very first time that he had invited a random boy to his room for sex.

Some of the pieces of his memory slotted together parts of the previous night. He could remember getting into a club without a pass, another perk he seemed to enjoy deeply. He could remember meeting the other boy, and then drinking shots with him. He could remember inviting him back to the room, and he could remember that they, uncharacteristically, had rough man-sex before passing out on the luxurious hotel bed.

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"…and we go to our next guest: a teen superstar who is here today to tell us about his new album. It's Blaine Anderson everybody!" the chat-show host gestured as Blaine nervously walked onto the staged area.

He sat awkwardly on the leather chair that had been prepared for him, as he shuddered, waiting for the questions.

"So, Blaine, how are you? I understand you have just flown in from London?" she asked him, seeming quite pleasant as she did.

"Oh, yeah, just flown in from London. It was…nice there…they had nice shops…" he replied, somewhat absent minded.

"That brings me on to my next question! You've become a sort of fashion icon. How does this feel?" she drabbled on.

"Oh, am I? I just thought that I influenced myself, you know?" he said, loosening up a little.

"Ah. So do you get your clothes picked for you, or do you decide?" the chat show host asked daintily.

"Well, it depends, I suppose," Blaine murmured.

"On what?"

"On whether my agent lets me wear what I want!" Blaine quipped, prompting a slight giggle from the rest of the studio audience.

The questions kept on coming, until Blaine had essentially returned to the same state of kindness and adorable confidence that he had since he was in high-school.

* * *

He waded back into his hotel room, somewhat impressed with his performance on the show, he threw he jacket onto the floor, but, before he could slump into his bed, he realized that his agent was sitting there, waiting for him.

"Blaine. I am disappointed…" he grunted, disdain filling his eyes.

"What? Oh…did I do something wrong?" Blaine was ever-so humble and self-deprecating at times.

"I'm disappointed…" he began as he stood up, grabbing and tugging at Blaine's arm roughly, "…with your little joke. You know that I do a lot for you, and you make me out like a bad person!" he continued, tightening his grip to the extent that Blaine's side bashed against the wall.

"S…stop it, you're hurting me!" the innocent teen cried out, exclaiming for help.

"Then, you need to apologize to me, don't you?" the agent said, hurting Blaine so much that he was now on the floor, whimpering like a child. "You need to apologize for this and your little incident this morning, don't you?" he persisted.

"Yes…I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry!" Blaine cried out again, with a single tear streaking his face.

"Good. You have your photo-shoot tomorrow, so, make sure you have a wee wank – you don't want any nasty surprised in the pants department tomorrow do you?" he joked, leaving the room.

Blaine didn't seem to antagonized: this happens all the time.

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**What did you think? The agent who shall not be named is a bit of an ass, isn't he? Expect some more from him in the future!**


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